


Runaway Girl

by sweetbabydean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cowboy Dean, Everything is consensual, F/M, He's just a regular country boy, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Mildly Dubious Consent, dean is a gentleman, i promise it's not tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetbabydean/pseuds/sweetbabydean
Summary: "You gonna let me in, darlin'?" He drawls, plush mouth dragging over her neck and ears. "I'll go easy, be as gentle as you like."And she's maybe more than a little bit confused, thankful that it's dark enough that he probably can't quite make out her face now. She isn't a virgin, obviously.





	Runaway Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I broke my own heart with this, I'm sorry. 
> 
> It has potential to be a mini series, so if you like it, feel free to offer up some ideas or things you'd like to see for it!
> 
> Also this sounds super dubcon-esque but everything is consensual. The ofc is trying to reconcile the way Dean is treating her with the way men prior to him have treated her. She is not forced into having sex; this is actually the first time she's wanted to have sex with anybody.

"You're so pretty," the man whispers, eyes of stained glass peering into her own.

His sweet nothings don't mean much to her; they're words she's heard time and time before. Country boys like him always say the nicest things when they've gotten between her thighs, then turn cold as ice the next day after they drenched her in their sins and left her out to dry. She's been here enough times to know his pretty words won't last, but not enough times to earn the names people call her, the names that he's probably heard, the names that more than likely led him to her in the first place. Those names have followed her around since childhood for reasons she hates to think about, so she pushes those thoughts back down and focuses on the man before her, trembling under his roughened fingers.

"You gonna let me in, darlin'?" He drawls, plush mouth dragging over her neck and ears. "I'll go easy, be as gentle as you like."

And she's maybe more than a little bit confused, thankful that it's dark enough that he probably can't quite make out her face now. She isn't a virgin, obviously, or maybe she'd have a better status in this damn town. Shouldn't he know that? No way he rolled through this small, hunk of nothing town, and didn't hear about her. But she says nothing, just rolls with it and sighs shakily, enjoying the warmth of his palms as they caress her thighs under her dress.

"Don't talk much, do ya, sweetheart? That's okay, but I ain't gonna go further 'less you tell me I can," he tuts, one hand leaving her thighs and caressing her face and she feels lost; this isn't how this normally goes down.

"What?" He mumbles and she can see his pretty brows furrow, knows she said that out loud. 

Her head shakes, too terrified to open her mouth. Men like him will often take her silence for agreement, reap their treasure between her thighs and she will carry the burden of her silence from that night forward. It's stopped bothering her as much because some are nicer than others and she doesn't mind as much, but then there are men who remind her of a past she tries to forget and this man with her now doesn't belong in either category. She can feel the wet between her legs and the wanting in her soul, never felt it before but knows what it is, the same desire the women in those novels she reads talk about.

"Come on, darlin', just need a yes or a no. Don't gotta be words if you don't wanna talk, you can move your head. You gonna let me touch you? Make you feel good? Get you off as many times as you'll let me, promise."

She gasps, because she doesn't know what to do. She wants to know these things, what it feels like to feel good, what it feels like to orgasm, what it feels like to know this man in more intimate ways. She does try to talk but all that comes out are croaks and whines, her throat dry from too long a silence.

"Easy there, honey. Just shake for no, nod for yes. Can I touch you here?" 

The finger ghosting up her core his barely a tickle but she still jumps, feeling like he lit up a live wire inside her body. She nods, frantically. His touch suddenly becomes heavier and she can feel him rubbing against her panties, knows he can feel the wetness gathered there just for him. She traps his hand between her thighs, squirming because she wants to feel him without a barrier. He groans in the back of his throat, eyes peering down at he from where he's standing between her legs. He doesn't turn cold there like she expects, instead surprises her by capturing her lips with his, drawing whines out of her every time he pulls away.

"Wish I had somewhere to lay you down," he grumbles, pulling her hips closer. "Sound so sweet, can only imagine how you look."

She knows he can't see it but she blushes anyway. She's lived in the dark so long that she can make out every feature on his handsome face, knows that if he could see her, he'd probably change his mind. She's been starving for the right attention for so long that she's become greedy in a matter of minutes, will do anything to keep him right here so she can lose herself in how good he feels.

She somehow tunes back in when he's got the top of her dress bunched up round her waist, mouthing around her breast. She whimpers when he gets his lips wrapped around her nipple, pants and moans as he suckles like a babe but adding a little more tongue for stimulation. Her hands are gripping at the back of his neck as she arches her chest towards him. Her breath stutters when he switches to her more sensitive one, nearly shaking apart when he affords it the same treatment.

"Ah, sensitive hm? Could suckle at them all day if that's what you wanted," he offers, hands rucking up the skirt of her dress only to start pulling her panties down. 

Her breasts are out and her thighs are parted wide, showing off two of her most private assets and she feels a tiny inkling of shame at how she must look. But when his fingers slide between her folds, she swept up in waves of desire all over again. She's a little embarrassed by how wet she is, how huge of a reaction she's having but it's minuscule compared to the pleasure coursing through her veins as he rubs her clit with just the right pressure.

"Goddamn," he mutters, fingers working magic between shaky thighs. "You're so wet, angel, and tremblin' like crazy. You gonna come, huh? You can, want you to."

She doesn't quite understand what he's saying or what's happening to her, but she knows it's something big. It feels like there's a spark in her lower belly, a white-hot, pleasurable one and she chases after it, hands scrabbling at the man's shirt as it crests and boils over. He feels her shake, clit twitching under the pads of his fingers and he smiles against her temple. He watches he shaking subside into small twitches, captures her lips again to kiss her through the comedown.

"You did so good, darlin'. Comin' just for me. God, you got me hotter than the devil, honey. Wanna make you come again, on my cock this time, yeah? Say you'll let me."

She'd let him do anything at this point, feels light and floaty and oh, so good. She nods and watches as he quickly strips out of his top, undoing his pants and pushing both the jeans and boxers down his thighs. They look strong like the rest of him, like if she could sit in the cradle of them, he'd be able to support her. Even his cock looks powerful, hard and thick, where it's jutting out towards her, making her walls clench with another wave of desire. 

"Hope I'm not too much. I ain't that big but I ain't lacking neither," he chuckles and it's gruff, making her ache for things she knows she can't have.

"Please," she squeaks, startling him and her both. She hadn't been able to say a word since he'd dragged her out of the pub, this one coming out a big jagged.

"Of course, darlin', 'm gonna get you right," he smiles, walking right back between the spread of her legs.

He doesn't just go for it, kisses her again and makes her dizzy for him. He plays between her thighs a bit more and holds her folds open for his length, presses in steady and relentless, insistent upon stuffing every hard inch inside her. It takes her a minute to adjust, squirming, twitching and whining because she's so full. He settles the last inch inside and uses his big hands to bring her closer, tilting her hip to accept him more easily and she wails, walls gripping him tight. She might not have been a virgin, but he made her feel like she was. As soon as he picks up a rhythm though, she starts begging god for mercy. She'll never get over how this particular moment feels, the stretch of his cock sliding in and out of her body, how he holds her and talks nonsense about how lovely she sounds and feels.

"Christ, sweetheart, you feel like heaven. Sweet little -," he cuts off with a grunt, lips slotting over hers again, swallowing her moans as they tumble out of her throat.

She feels that same pleasure building once again, thighs clamping down around the hips of her cowboy. It's so much stronger this time, feels like it's gonna claw its way out of her pelvis. He must notice because he only tilts her back more, pulls her hips closer, changing the angle to make it feel like he's marking his territory within. She nearly screams when his fingers find her clit again, trembles in the wake of this second orgasm.

"Please!" She exclaims, so close to falling.

"Call me Dean," he huffs, fingers rubbing and hips thrusting. "When you come, say my name."

She does, in fact. She screams herself hoarse on that four letter word, gushes around him, clawing at his skin in pleasure. Seconds pass before she feels the warmth, marked from the inside out; no man has ever done that before. This man, Dean, is not like the others and for once she is grateful, thankful for the change. He whimpers in his own masculine way as he comes down from his own orgasm, licking over his kiss swollen lips. When he pulls away, cock slipping out of her, it's like a cold wake up call and she is instantly clenching tighter, preventing his essence from slipping out of her as she rights her dress. The dread and disgust is settling in, making her stomach turn with uneasiness.

"Whoa, honey. What's the matter? Whatcha rushin' for?" The man drawls, drawing up his bottoms slow and easy.

"Home," is all she manages, trying to stop the tears from slipping down her face.

"Yeah, sure, sweetheart. I'll give ya a ride home," and he's reaching for her, but she jumps back like she's been burned. "You okay?"

No she isn't okay, and she takes one more look at him, memorizing all his handsome features even though they're ridden with concern. She'll drift off to the memory of him the next time a sweet talking country boy tries to worm his way between her thighs. Then she runs and runs, can feel the sticky slide of his seed run down her legs but she doesn't stop, not until she's outside her front door. She slinks in, down the hall and into her bedroom, not quite ready to wash the stranger off of her. He may have been just another smooth talking traveler, but he was special. Despite her tears and the gross feeling she'll carry around with her, she doesn't regret letting him in... Least not as much as she regrets not being better, something he could have loved. She falls asleep that night with the image of a mosaic eyed cowboy burned into her eyelids, dreaming of a world where she could have been his.

+++

Dean hadn't chased after her though he wishes he would have. He hadn't known what to do. How do you go after someone when they look like that? Sure it was darker than hell, but he could see, for that split second, the fear on her face. She'd gone from taffy sweet to lemon sour right before his very eyes. He'd wanted to take her home, make love to her again and again, serve her breakfast in the morning and maybe get to know her. Now he just sits with Sam at a diner in some other podunk town thinking about a girl with big, brown eyes, a sweet smile, and soft thighs and wonders if, maybe, he'll ever run into her again.


End file.
